


Halfway through the wood

by space_radio



Series: Won't stop to surrender [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Frank discussions about mental illness, M/M, like a lot of crying, like a lot of that too, listen it's time for these boys to be honest and open with each other, this is soft!!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 05:46:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10656162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_radio/pseuds/space_radio
Summary: The day after the Grand Prix Final, Yuuri can’t get out of bed.It's time for some honest, open, vulnerable conversations about mental health.





	Halfway through the wood

The day after the Grand Prix Final, Yuuri can’t get out of bed.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to- he knows he should say goodbye to Phichit, at least, before they go their separate ways again, but getting up is impossible, an insurmountable obstacle. He just. He can’t make his body go through the motions.

Viktor is puttering around the room, stopping to sip from his cardboard cup of tea or fold a sock and place it gingerly in his suitcase. Yuuri watches him through half-closed eyes, paying particular attention the curve at the small of his back, and the dip of his ass where it meets his thighs. Viktor’s very well-formed, Yuuri thinks, and if it were any other day he’d sit up and beckon Viktor closer, put his hands where his eyes are lingering.

Today, he just watches. Anything else would take more effort than he has to give.

A few long minutes pass like this, Yuuri blinking in the mid-morning sun, limbs made of lead. Viktor finishes packing and drops to the floor, moving through his daily stretches. He’s pushing himself back up from a particularly distracting split, when Yuuri yawns, and Viktor catches the sound. His head whips around, eyes wide and delighted, as they always seem to be when he’s looking at Yuuri these days.

“Good morning, sweet Yuuri! My beautiful Grand Prix Final silver medalist,” Viktor chirps, and Yuuri manages a half-smile, turning his face further into the pillow and watching Viktor with one eye.

Viktor pauses.

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri hums, and after a moment, Viktor stands, crossing the room to sit by Yuuri on the edge of the bed. He raises his hand, delicate even now, and brushes his fingers through Yuuri’s bangs, pushing them back from his forehead. Yuuri shuts his eyes, and Viktor stays like that, stroking his hair, fingers lighter and softer than Yuuri’s ever felt them. The bed shifts, and then there’s a pair of lips at Yuuri’s temple, warm and steady. Yuuri feels more grounded already.

“What’s wrong, my Yuuri?” Viktor asks. “Are you not happy with your silver medal? I won’t kiss it unless it’s gold, you know, but of course I am still extremely proud of you.” His voice is soft, and Yuuri feels hollowed out by the tenderness there.

Yuuri takes a deep, shuddering breath, and turns his head so he’s facing Viktor. It’s still too hard to meet his eyes, so he keeps his eyes on Viktor’s neck, gaze drawn to the fading bruise he left there two days ago. Viktor draws his hand down Yuuri’s face, presses his thumb to Yuuri’s bottom lip. Yuuri kisses it, revels in the way even that makes Viktor’s breath come a little quicker.

He’s so _easy_. Yuuri loves it, and tells him so.

“Tell me what’s bothering you, my love,” Viktor says, soft in the quiet of the room. Yuuri sighs.

“Do you know what it’s like for me, sometimes, Viktor?” Yuuri asks, gaze still stuck on the hollow of Viktor’s throat as Viktor bends over him. Viktor makes a considering sound, one that probably means, “go on,” and Yuuri breathes another moment before he continues.

“Anxiety, I mean. Depression. I know you know about it. I, I know _you_ know that’s why I stopped skating, before… you.”

He stops to gather his words, considers how to proceed. Viktor is warm above him, and patient, and Yuuri doesn’t know what he did to deserve him. Doesn’t think he _does_ , most days.

“It makes things… hard, for me. Hard to do. Things that are easy for- for normal people.” He doesn’t miss the sound Viktor makes at that, small and hurt. “Things like, uh, getting out of bed,” Yuuri says, and risks a quick glance at Viktor’s face.

Viktor watches him, intent, eyebrows drawn together a little, wrinkling his smooth high forehead. Yuuri wants to press the pad of his thumb to the crease there, smooth it out under his fingers, but. Well. He’s stuck. That hasn’t changed.

“I’m- it’s, it’s like my body is extra heavy sometimes, or like I’m moving through water. I, I can’t pick up my legs to walk, because they weigh too much. And other times, it’s like. Everything’s too fast, too loud. Too much. I get… overwhelmed.”

Viktor nods, listening, hanging on Yuuri’s every word. Yuuri feels strangely brave, having all of Viktor’s attention on him like this. Feels important, worth listening to.

“Most days, it’s… I can ignore it,” Yuuri continues, choosing his words carefully. “I can get out of bed, go to training. Talk to guests at the onsen. It’s still… hard, but I can do it. It’s just. Draining. And, and now that you’re here, it’s easier sometimes, but. I’m scared, too. How can I be-- enough? Or-- or worth it, for you?”

Yuuri stops talking, breathes for a long minute. Looks at Viktor, who hasn’t moved, staring into the middle distance with his pretty mouth set in a thoughtful frown. After another few breaths, Viktor glances up, catches Yuuri’s eyes with his own. Opens his mouth, pauses, and then speaks, voice softer than Yuuri’s ever heard it.

“It-- you too?” He asks. “You too, my Yuuri?” Yuuri doesn’t say anything, just waits. Viktor closes his eyes. “I feel like I… I tricked you into… loving me. Every day I wonder if you’ll wake up and realize I’m not the man in all your posters, Yuuri, I’m not brave and beautiful like you think I am. I’m, I’m-- how could _I_ be enough for _you?”_

Viktor sucks in a breath, shaking a little. He opens his eyes, and they’re shiny, wet. Yuuri is paralyzed, can’t speak, can only look back at Viktor and wait.

“Before I met you, I… was not okay,” Viktor says, whispering now. “I could skate, and smile, and give a good interview, but I didn’t-- I didn’t _feel_ anything, didn’t feel like I was _worth_ anything. I couldn’t focus. I was-- my brain felt like static, most of the time. My life was… ice and hotel rooms, most of the time. I got Makkachin so I’d feel like I had something to live for,” he finishes. He’s crying now, but silently, tears falling one after another down his marble cheek.

“I’m not a good person,” Yuuri whispers, starting to cry too. “I’m selfish and self-absorbed. You’re-- you’re generous, and-- everybody loves you, Viktor, my whole town loves you, the whole _world_ loves you. _I_ love you, and all I’ve done is take you from everybody else. I took you from the whole _world!_ I don’t-- I don’t deserve you, why have you _stayed?”_

Vikor takes Yuuri’s hand between his own shaking fingers, kisses the skin of his knuckles.

“My Yuuri, I’m selfish too,” he says, voice wet. “I want you to _hang on to me,_ as long as you want me. I want to be _worth_ something to you. Don’t you know all I want is to be _kept?_ ”

Yuuri’s breath catches in his throat. They’re both weeping, staring at each other with tears running down their faces, and Yuuri doesn’t think Viktor’s ever looked so beautiful. He pulls on Viktor’s hand where it’s still holding his own and yanks, until Viktor’s climbing over him on the bed. Yuuri keeps pulling until Viktor is tucked up against him, bodies close and hearts even closer.

“Thank you for telling me this, Viktor,” he whispers.

Viktor nudges forward, places a hesitant kiss to the base of Yuuri’s throat. He feels Viktor murmur something against his skin there, so quiet he can’t make out the words. Yuuri breathes, feeling steadier already with Viktor pressed so close.

“I love you,” Yuuri says, and his voice doesn’t even shake. He says it again, savoring the feel of the words on his tongue. Viktor’s breath hitches, and he hides his face in Yuuri’s sternum, crying all over again. “I love you,” Yuuri repeats, then, softer, “I love you, Viktor.”

There’s another pause while Viktor takes a shaky breath. Then, “I love you, my Yuuri, love of my life,” he says. “I want to spend my whole life loving you, as long as you’ll have me.”

And there it is-- Yuuri starts crying again.

“Always,” he says. “You’re _mine_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, there's that. Apparently I wasn't done with writing about these emotional boys.
> 
> All attempts to describe mental illness, successful or not, come from my own experiences. Turns out it's pretty hard to nail down how it feels to have depression, huh?
> 
> Thank you very much for reading! Come say hi at my tumblr - I'm https://space--radio.tumblr.com/ over there, and I'd love to hear from you!


End file.
